


Pray for us Sinners

by RequiemForTheWolves



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, BAMF Q, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-26 00:05:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3829843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RequiemForTheWolves/pseuds/RequiemForTheWolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q would question it sometimes, when the body count was climbing ever higher, or he could watch through CCTV just how much of a mess he was making. He would question it up until one of his agents would run finger tips or lips over his scar, would gaze mournfully at it as if it signified every bad thing that had ever happened to him before nuzzling into his side. They placed kisses to the warped flesh as gentle as if it were still an open wound. They would drag him closer as if any distance between them was painful, as if when they let go he may slip away from them entirely. They would do this, and Q would feel justified.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pray for us Sinners

**Author's Note:**

> Self-betaed and not brit-picked, so please be gentle.

The bullet landed right between the target's eyes, others following into the various vital body parts of his goons. They dropped like flies, hitting the ground before the others had time to react. Bond pulled himself from the shadows of the warehouse once they were all neutralized, switching the safety of his gun back on.

His mission objective sagged in relief in the chair he was bound to, shoulders dropping at an odd angle due to his hands being tied behind his back. "Thank god," the man breathed, "I thought you were never going to get-"

Bond put a bullet through the man's temple with one of the enemy's guns. Chunks of grey mass splattered against the far wall as he touched his earpiece. "Mission failure. Johnson was lost."

"How unfortunate." Q responded in his ear, tone as clipped and professional as ever. "I'll notify M. You have a return flight in three hours at the Dubai International Airport. Please be on it."

"Of course Q." The call clicked off, and Bond placed the gun in the hands of one of the fallen men littering the floor.

 

_Our father_

_Who art in Heaven_

_Hallowed by thy name_

 

“The higher ups are scared of you, you know.” Eve admitted to him one night over drinks. Her latest boy-toy had just left her for someone else, and though she claimed she was unaffected, the fact that she was already four shots in compared to Q's one spoke differently.

“What are you talking about?” He parried back. “That's ridiculous.”

She shook her head, right before downing another tequila shot. The barman gave her a wary once over when she called for him to refill her glass, but did so anyway. The pub they were in was filled to maximum capacity what with the World Cup going on, and they were sat elbow to elbow with other patrons. Q took a sip of his own pint as he glanced around the room, looking for a familiar face. He had left vague coordinates of where he would be that night on a post-it note on the fridge in his flat, and was waiting for when one of his agents would appear in his peripheral vision, letting him know that they'd found him. It was a game of theirs, one he probably enjoyed far too much, a sort of secret agent level hide-and-go-seek, and his stomach churned in anticipation for when he would be captured and carried off back to base.

“No, really.” Eve insisted, dragging Q back into their conversation. “I overheard Tanner and Mallory talking about it. Apparently you're classified as one of the most dangerous potential threats that MI6 has. Not that that's documented anywhere. Trust me, I checked.”

“How is that possible though? I'm sure there are some agents employed with a much higher risk potential than me.” Alec himself had threatened to defect more than once in the privacy of his own living room if anything such as what had happened to Silva were to happen to James or Q.

“It's because the double-ohs actually like you, though more importantly _listen_ to you. Especially double-oh six and seven, they're the most resilient of them all. Tanner nearly had a heart attack last week when you got Trevelyan to turn in his paperwork.” Q grimaced at the memory. Those two always had him terribly behind in his equipment logs. He'd had to hold out on sex for two weeks before they'd both conceded to doing all of their make-up work. Frankly the aftermath still had him a bit sore.

“I have to say, I'm a bit disappointed in how they've underestimated my loyalty to my country.”

Eve grinned at him, the alcohol loosening her smile into being a bit wider than she would normally allow. “I know, they're worrying over nothing.”

Just then Q managed to spot Bond, sitting in a booth at the corner of the Quartermaster's vision. The agent raised his pint in acknowledgment, and Q hid his grin behind his own drink.

 

_Thy kingdom come_

_Thy will be done_

_On Earth as it is in Heaven_

 

They'd explained their plan to Q gently, when they were curled around him in bed and he was still lucid with pain medication. They'd whispered promises of safety into pale skin and wild curls, wrapped around him as if there were things in Alec's bedroom they needed to bodily shield him from.

“They'll never hurt you again.”

“We promise.”

“We swear.”

“We won't allow it.”

“We'll hunt them down.”

“Take them apart from the inside out.”

“Burn it all.”

“They have to know.”

“Know that what they did was wrong.”

“What they did was wrong.”

“We'll leave nothing but ashes.”

Q would question it sometimes, when the body count was climbing ever higher, or he could watch through CCTV just how much of a mess he was making. He would question it up until one of his agents would run finger tips or lips over his scar, would gaze mournfully at it as if it signified every bad thing that had ever happened to him before nuzzling into his side. They placed kisses to the warped flesh as gentle as if it were still an open wound. They would drag him closer as if any distance between them was painful, as if when they let go he may slip away from them entirely. They would do this, and Q would feel justified.

 

 

_Give us this day our daily bread_

_And forgive us of our trespasses_

_As we forgive those who trespass against us_

 

Bond told him not to save Moneypenny.

They were curled up in bed, Q resting against Alec's chest, the agent dead to the world after having just returned from his trip to the states. Q's laptop rested on his thighs, and Bond was curled up against his side. Q regarded the man curiously, but his ice blue eyes gave nothing away, simply watching him with an even stare.

Q didn't know what Bond's sudden personal vendetta was, but when the time came he kept Moneypenny safe from the havoc they would wreck anyway.

 

_And lead us not into temptation_

_But deliver us from evil_

 

Q started spending nearly every waking moment on his computer. Alec and Bond both complained, though one more loudly than the other. Alec would sit at Q's feet and whine about how lonely the bed was without him, while Bond would simply begin trailing kisses along his Quartermaster's neck until finally Q would snap at them that until they learned how to rig elections and could do it themselves then they needed to bugger off. That usually bought him a few hours, though the only real peace he got was when he sent them away, giving them guns and ordering them to point and shoot, both for MI6 and otherwise.

He took to sending them together on independent missions if he could. Without the assistance of MI6 to back them up it was best that they at least had each other. Not that he didn't have faith in his boys, but it was comforting to know that they would at least make sure the other returned home. He couldn't imagine having the beds that they all shared becoming permanently empty. The solitude would drive him mad.

 

_Amen_

 

Q stared up at the large wooden cross at the front of the church. It stood tall and menacing, looking more threatening than protective, demanding of repentance. It was judging them in all of their sin, the blood stained hands that they bore and their eyes that had seen too much death to be healthy. It was damning them.

Q turned to shove his face against Bond's chest, his nose stinging as it regained feeling with the warmth his lover provided. He got cold too easily, was all slim muscle and bone with nothing of substance to protect him from the elements. Despite the soft fur interior of his parka he'd started shivering minutes into their wait in the church, ill equipped for cold Scottish winters despite his gloves and hat. Bond had told him it was because he only had fingerless gloves, but Q hated things getting in the way of the most useful parts of his body. Bond had offered to hold him anyway, and Q had tangled them together on a pew bench, taking in as much of the other man's warmth as he could.

"I didn't know you were Catholic." James' voice rumbled in his chest and against Q's fingers where he had shoved them under the other man's jacket.

"I used to be. My mother was French, I got it from her. It never really leaves you I think. Not when they drill it into you so fiercely as a child." Bond hummed in acknowledgment, and Q closed his eyes as he listened to the persistent _lub-dub_ beneath his ear, moved with each intake of his lover's breath. "Alec should be back soon."

"Hmm. Unless he's run into trouble."

Q opened his eyes and turned to watch Skyfall out of the stained glass window that was inset into the cobblestone wall. They'd rebuilt the manor in secret, made it smaller, more efficient, more modern, though still did their best to keep the old rustic feel that James was fond of despite himself. James had sent Kincaid away after the building's original destruction, and upon its rebirth had kept him in the dark, not believing he could ask any more of the man. Q hadn't questioned his decision.

"I don't imagine he would. This is all precaution after all. As far as the rest of the world knows, Skyfall is still just a burnt out shell."

"Unless he ran into trouble with some sheep again." James delivered the line in a deadpan tone, but Q could see the way his lips gave way to the slightest curl.

Q offered up a toothy grin. "You'll have to tell me that story some time."

The agent's eyes danced with the well kept secrets of his and Alec's Navy years that he was now ready to share. "Of course love."

Alec walked through the door then, sniper rifle resting on his shoulder in the most nonchalant way one could carry a deadly weapon. "All clear, though there are some bad ass mothers of some sheep up on the west side hill."

Q's smile grew as him and James began untangling themselves from one another, moving so that they could join the other man. "Oh really? Did you have some trouble with the sheep then?"

"Yea, one of them kept charging at me. I didn't want to shoot it and draw attention to us, but that fucker was persistent." Alec stopped at the look of pure amusement that Q was sending up at him. "What's that look for?" The taller man snatched Q's hat off his head so he could ruffle the other man's hair, the brunette making the most ridiculous noise in protest as he tried to get his possession back.

"Alright you two," James said as he walked past them, snatching the red knit cap from Alec as he went, "I'm going back to get the car. You might as well go on in, there's the looks of a storm coming in from the north."

"James!" Q scolded as he made grabbing motions for his hat, Alec having wrapped his arms around the smaller man in order to hold him just out of reach. James simply grinned before putting the cap on himself and heading out the door, leaving Q to curl into Alec's bulk in attempt to gather warmth again.

 

_Hail Mary, full of grace_

_The Lord is with thee_

 

They all kept separate flats, though not for the lack of wanting to sleep together. On the contrary, Q's favorite nights were ones when he could enjoy both of his agents piled on top of him, one large tangle of warmth and limbs in whomever's bed they ended up in. For the sake of MI6 though they kept separate flats, for the sake of their protection sunken in secrecy.

They were at James' flat that night, or at least Q was. Alec was still deep in the heart of Russia, and James was due back from his latest trip to Syria at any moment. Q was home first though (despite home now being a rather relative term) coming in from a long day of faulty machinery, obstinate agents, and lines upon lines of code unfolding itself before his tired eyes. Q was home first to a flat that he shouldn't have been in because James Bond had no partners that anyone at MI6 knew about, so Q was the one who was attacked.

When James arrived at the flat it was to find two men on his floor in the dark of the living room, Q straddling his attacker with vice like hands around the other man's throat, gradually squeezing the life out of him. There was a knife jutting out the Quartermaster's side, and blood ran in streams along one side of his face.

James had his gun in hand in an instant, but couldn't shoot. They were too close together, the risk of hitting Q too high for him to take action. Instead he hooked an arm around his lover's chest, lifting the weakening man off his assailant so that he could crush the other man's windpipe with the heel of his shoe. A bullet between the man's eyes made sure the job was finished.

Blood was fucking everywhere. From where Bond held Q gasping and sagging in his arms he could see the glass in the other man's hair that matched that of the smashed vase on the ground, and the beginnings of a bruise on his jaw. Ice ran through Bond's veins, a cold fury that burned like fire across his skin, twitching in his trigger finger.

"Take the knife out." Q instructed between gasps.

"It'll start bleeding." He'd probably lost enough blood as it was with the head wound, there was no need to risk more, not when the nearest medical assistance was a good 20 minute drive away.

"It's serrated on both sides, the more I move the worse it gets. _Take it. Out._ " Q seethed between clenched teeth, and James did as he was instructed, heart clenching at the raw sounds of pain coming from the back of his lover's throat. Q shook with it, not hardened against these kinds of things the way his agents were, not shock resistant like those so well acquainted with field work. Like Bond had predicted blood began gushing from the wound, in high contrast to the small trickle it had been beforehand.

Despite this Q wouldn't let Bond carry him to the car, his resilient pride still in tact despite everything. He tried walking with only Bond's arm under his shoulders to support him, but it was quickly obvious he wasn't stable enough. Eventually Bond simply dismissed the other man's protests, lifting the Quartermaster into his arms as he hurried off to the car park. He broke every speeding law possible in their drive to MI6, the entire time praying that his next glance into the back seat wouldn't greet him with the unthinkable.

 

_Blessed art thou amongst women_

_And blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus_

 

Eve lost all color in her face when she saw Bond leaning against the wall in Q's room at medical, looking every part the apex predator he had worked so hard to become. She played it off well, but the shock was undoubtedly there.

"What happened to Q?" She asked in a voice deceptively even.

"He was attacked." Bond's answer come in hard edges and stone.

The man in question was blessedly asleep at the moment, drugs running heavily through his veins and keeping him under, away from the pain. He'd had to go into surgery, the knife's deep laceration having caused internal bleeding, and Bond had never experienced such a thing before, the stressful pace along the perimeter of a waiting room floor. He nearly went out of his mind, didn't know how family members were able to sit still when one of their loved ones could potentially be lost to them forever at any moment. Q was fine now, but Bond's blood was still thrumming with pent up worry and anger and frustration. His mind was set on murder, and by walking through the door Moneypenny had subjected herself to his wrath.

He had her by the arm and out into the corridor before she even had the time to react, the space around them thankfully void of other people. Even if any nurses were to pass, they were familiar enough with angry double-ohs to know to keep their distance. He crowded her against a wall, arms trapping her in on the off chance that his eyes that spoke of an oncoming storm didn't do the trick. "The agent was MI6, Moneypenny. I saw the insignia on his vest. Talk."

Bond wasn't used to seeing Eve scared. Despite her retirement from field work she was still a well trained agent, could sneer in the face of death with the best of them. He saw it in the space behind her eyes though, behind the facade that she was putting up. He was frightening her. Good.

"Why was Q in your flat?"

Bond gripped her arm a bit tighter, pressing bruises into her dark skin. "Why was there an agent in my flat?"

She paused for a moment, contemplating, before relinquishing with a sigh. “Q has the higher ups scared. Double-ohs do what he says with little to no question, and you're all obviously quite fond of him, especially you and double-oh six. They were worried that, were he to defect, at least the two of you would go along with whatever he asked. It didn't help that your mission success rates after Q's installment have skyrocketed to nearly 100%. However since Q is such an asset they figured that they would loose less by replacing agents, especially since you two are the closest ones to mandatory retirement age.”

Bond took deep breaths through his nose, fighting the urge to raise his hands to her throat instead. “And you didn't think to say anything? To them, or even to us in warning?”

“James, please, there was nothing I could do. I-”

“Get out.” He snarled, forcefully shoving her in the way of the exit doors.

It took everything in Moneypenny not to run for the door.

 

_Holy Mother pray for us sinners_

_Now and at the hour of our deaths_

 

Alec found them within an hour of his return.

He and Bond hovered like storm clouds at the edges of Q's room, keeping watch over the sleeping Quartermaster with an unnatural concentration and stillness.

The two agents didn't need words to communicate, knew of the cameras in each corner of the room and need only lock eyes in order to discuss what they were going to do. They couldn't let this go without retaliation, couldn't let this wrong stand, not when something they held so dear to them had almost been taken away.

It would take effort, and a good amount of convincing on Q's part. He was too willing to see the good in people, despite what one would assume from his position in espionage. In his line of work it was a trait that was quick to bring him hardships, though without it he never would have acquired the two double-ohs now blood thirsty for revenge on his behalf.

It was clear to both agents, something would have to be done.

 

_Amen_

 

Q murmured the final word into James' short hair, eyes steady on the small wooden cross placed on the mantel over the fireplace. He was at the bottom of a puppy pile, James' head on his chest and Alec's on his stomach as they each took a side of his to curl up against. They were laid out on soft rugs and blankets in front of the fire, allowing Q to defrost fully from his time spent out on Skyfall's moors.

He felt ridiculously safe like this, two of the most dangerous men in the world curled up on top of him, as if they were to bodily shelter him from all harm. Not that he couldn't protect himself, but the care that the two agents extended towards him was enough to make his heart feel as if it were going to explode. He didn't know what he'd done to deserve this, but he coveted their affection like a mad man. It was what would pull him through after all, his agent's insistence that he stay by their sides. For him they were more than willing to set the world aflame, and had no trouble in demonstrating just that. Together they had altered the world to suit their needs, and together they would watch it burn. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully this doesn't make anyone think I don't like Moneypenny. I absolutely adore her, I just needed someone and she happened to be there.


End file.
